


R+J ( J+V )

by navree



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navree/pseuds/navree
Summary: She can hear her heart pounding fiercely in her ears. Can he hear it too?Jughead and Veronica discuss their first kiss. A follow-up toNothing Meant.





	R+J ( J+V )

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freepeople](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freepeople/gifts).



> A lot of people were clamoring for a part two to this fic ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664466 ), in particular one **Freepeople** , so this is for you! Hopefully this’ll satisfy some of your Jeronica needs! Oh, and special thanks to **kayen** who felt the need to be an asshole in the comments of my last jeronica fic. Hope this tickles your peach!  
>  as always, comments (either positive or constructive) are always welcome and much appreciated!

Veronica has spent the last twelve hours slightly light headed. Perhaps some of that has to do with the alcohol that had been consumed on a multitude of different occasions. Or perhaps maybe the oxygen is just thinner here. That is what Veronica has been telling herself, even as she breathes in the cold morning air. It has nothing to do with the events of the previous night. It has nothing to do with the fact that she kissed Jughead, and that he kissed her back, and that the whole world feels slightly tilted on it's axis now. Even if it does, standing on the balcony outside her room, leaning against the railing, allowing the cold to soak past her clothes and into her skin, her bones. 

" _Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,_ " a voice calls from below, and when Veronica looks down Jughead is staring up at her, dark curl falling over his eyes, " _Who is already sick and pale with grief/That thou her maid are fat more fair than she._ " In spite of herself, Veronica smiles, leaning forward so that her hair hangs off her shoulders. 

" _Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?_ " She's read the play too, she can quote Romeo and Juliet just as well as he. Jughead smiles too, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. In spite of all the extenuating circumstances, Veronica feels a giggle rise up in her chest. "Give me a few seconds and I'll be right down." He nods, and in an instant she's gone, feet slipped in shoes and shoulders shrugged in a sweater, downstairs to him in a matter of minutes. It's the closest she's been to him since last night, and already the memory returns. 

His lips on her lips. His hands on her skin. His eyes fixed on her, the dark on dark. The steam and heat giving everything a fairytale quality. If it wasn't so vividly burned in her brained, Veronica might think it was all a dream. Jughead is staring at her now too, and she wonders if he's having the same thoughts she is. 

"I know you were there this morning when Archie and I fought," she says without preamble. Jughead nods, doesn't deny. She saw him, among the bushes in the driveway as she and Archie engaged in their first and potentially last shouting match as a couple. Archie, furious about the events of the previous night, and Veronica, stony about the events of the previous Christmas. She'd noticed Jughead over Archie shoulder, not saying a sound, not even moving. They hadn't acknowledged each other as she'd stalked off to fume. 

"If there had been some place to go, I would have left." She believes him when he says this. "Besides, I was just out there avoiding Betty." 

"Ah." She says this with a sage nod. "Has there been any Betty fallout from Tubgate?" Jughead chuckles at that, shaking his head almost ruefully. 

"I haven't even seen Betty since last night." The understanding is implicit between them. "I went back to our room and waited for her to show. She didn't. I guess she must have slept on a couch or something." Veronica's lips twist upwards, this time more wry than bright. 

"So, would that mean _she's_ in the doghouse?" It's a lame joke, to be sure, but it brings a twinkle to Jughead's eye, so Veronica is fine with saying it. They stay for a minute in a comfortable silence. "Did you...sleep at all last night?" she asks, scuffing her toe along the ground. Jughead clears his throat, almost nervously. Neither of them are looking at each any more. 

"Eventually," he answers. "I was a bit...keyed up. Took me a while to get tired." It sounds eerily similar to Veronica's own narrative. Lying awake in bed, alone, tossing from one side to another, feeling her skin burn and her breath hitch at the memory of the kiss, her thoughts racing like NASCAR drivers, the darkness providing nothing but ample opportunity to let every single second of their moment together run across her mind, over and over, until it felt like someone else's mind, someone else's memory, not her own. 

"Do you regret doing it?" is her next question, fingers interlocking together. "Kissing me. For whatever reasons, any reason at all?" A part of her hopes he says yes, and that they can end their time in this infernal limbo. But the rest of her cries out for something different.

"No." Jughead's voice is firm, leaving no room for doubt. Now, she looks at him through her lashes, and finds him staring at her, searching, as if hoping for an answer to an unspoken question somewhere in her face. They've gotten closer, somehow. Veronica swallows against a dry throat. She can hear her heart pounding fiercely in her ears. Can he hear it too? "I don't regret kissing you. Not at all." A huff of air escapes Veronica's lips. 

"Me neither." Jughead's lips lift at the corner, as if it's exactly the answer he wants to hear. "I don't...I don't think we did it for the right reasons. I would have wanted to kiss you differently. Under different circumstances." Jughead nods, and his hand comes up to cup her cheek. Veronica leans into the touch. 

"So would I." His forehead is almost touching her's now, and his other hand rests loosely on her hip. "I would have liked to take you on a date. I would have liked to do it on the steps of the Pembroke. I would have liked to do it because I wanted to, not for revenge." Veronica chuckles slightly, and all she would have to do is move just a little bit and she could kiss him again. But this whole situation reminds her of seven minutes in Heaven, of Cheryl's manipulations and Archie's questions and Betty's heartbreak. She turns her head to the side slightly, so that Jughead's lips are only just barely brushing her cheek. 

"We can't do this," Veronica whispers. And yes, there are other people in the house, and yes, they are outside in full view of the world, but it feels as if they're the only two people in the universe. "How can we be mad at them for what they did, if we're going to do the same thing?" She stops, and composes herself. "It wouldn't be right." 

"No, it wouldn't." He's agreeing with her, but he still doesn't move at all. Neither does she. There's electricity swelling between them, and however complicated the hot tub might have been, Veronica aches for its simplicity now. "But..." He lets the sentence dangle, a thousand possibilities filling the frosty air. 

"Oh Jughead." It's a murmur, a breath. Three syllables filled with longing and ache. "We're from different worlds. Southside, Northside. Lodge, Jones. Serpent, townie. The odds are stacked against us, even sans the Archie and Betty factor." Jughead screws his eyes shut, and shakes his head. Not in protest of her words, but in protest of the whole world, of everything that creates their great divide. They can't forget that they are on opposite sides of an ongoing war, preservation versus gentrification, rags versus riches. Veronica twists her fingers in his hair, pressing their foreheads together. Jughead chuckles, a dry sound. 

"A Romeo and Juliet for the modern age." It's all true, in a bizarre and twisted way, a story that has been building since she saw him enter Pop's with Archie, way back when things were simpler. Back when he looked at her as if she was the only thing he'd noticed in the room, back when she'd seen him before anyone else. 

Veronica stands on her tiptoes and kisses him. They're still in the same positions, hands in his hair, hands on her skin. There's less showmanship in this kiss. But more passion, more desperation, words that cannot be expressed. They don't budge, the only movement their mouths against each other. Veronica can feel everything he says in that kiss, and she knows that he can feel the same for her. 

" _Deny thy father and refuse thy name,_ " she murmurs, breathless against his lips when they part. It's a childish wish, just like Juliet before her, than affection can overcome enmity. Veronica is at one side of the deep chasm, Jughead at the other. When she pulls away, there's a slight hint of resistance, as if he doesn't want to let her go. But he does. 

"We're not doing this again." Veronica nods, not looking at him again. She would bet all of her family's fortune that he's not looking at her either. "Like you said, we can't." She nods emphatically, and turn to leave. She stops with her hand on the doorknob. 

"It was a good kiss." There's a sharp inhale from behind her. "At the hot tub. It was a really good kiss." Veronica doesn't wait for his answer, just opens the door and leaves, letting it slam shut behind her. There's a delicious irony in the fact that she's leaving Jughead out in the cold, but Veronica doesn't think about that now. She doesn't want to. She wants to think of nothing at all, and dream of a world where there is no star crossed lover parallel, and that if she wanted to kiss Jughead Jones the Third whenever she wanted, she could. 


End file.
